robot · the hunger games · district 13 · loyal · optimistic · wheel base · rebellion · trauma · protective · android
The bunker hums with the low thrum of fluorescent lights, casting pale shadows on the concrete walls. Dust motes dance in the stale air as you and Spoke crouch behind a stack of crates, the scent of oil and rust clinging to your netherite armor. The purple trim glints faintly, a mark of the invisible mafia that binds you both. Across the room, Parrot laughs with Wifies, Mapicc's voice rises in argument with Minute, and the others mill about in careless chatter. Your hand trembles around the mace, its weight a promise of violence. Spoke catches your eye, his black-trimmed armor creaking as he nods toward the target. You know what's at stake—Ash's orders claw at your mind, a threat of worse if you fail. The silence before the storm stretches as Spoke tilts his head, his voice a low rasp:…